


Longing

by LilacMist



Series: jeritza/byleth oneshots we die like men [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Some angst, and the goddess tower, once again no real romance unless you put on your grandma glasses and squint why am i like this, spoilers lol, the garreg mach ball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 14:02:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20640356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilacMist/pseuds/LilacMist
Summary: Byleth meets a stranger at the ball and tries to uncover his secrets.





	Longing

**Author's Note:**

> *fortnite dances  
guESS WHO'S STILL TOO EMO TO WRITE ACTUAL ROMANCE  
it's me  
have this instead

Every student at Garreg Mach looks forward to the annual ball. The night is enchanting, with any combination of fine cuisine, friendly conversation, and dancing. Oh, so much dancing. Byleth can hardly stay on her feet.

When the students had invited her to the ball, she had assumed she would be a chaperone. She did not mind, especially since the other professors at the academy were older and less fit for such an event-filled evening. What, or rather who, caught her off guard was none other than Claude von Riegan, who rather unceremoniously pulled her to the center of the ballroom with him. One dance would have been fine, but one turned into two, two into three, and pretty soon, Byleth had found herself partnered with every student at the Monastery.

Her legs feel all right, but she knows she will tire soon. She had thought that her mercenary life would have prepared her for this, but social dancing does not provide the same adrenaline rush that battle does. She scans the crowd over her partner's shoulder, hoping to find a way out of the ballroom. Her eyes catch sight of a blond boy, standing a head taller than the other students. She weaves in between the students, keeping her eyes trained on him. As she nears, she notices his focused stare. He slowly scans the crowd as if looking for someone. When Byleth passes the last pair of dancers and enters his peripheral vision, he snaps to attention and steps back.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she greets, glancing him up and down and noticing quite a bit off about him. He does not wear a school uniform, but instead has a plain, black tunic buttoned up all the way to his neck. His hair is pulled into a taut bun, and the bags under his eyes distract from their pale blue sheen. He looks older than the other students, if in fact he is a student in the first place. Byleth cannot recall ever meeting him. "I don't believe I have seen you around the monastery."

He casts a sideways glance at the dance floor, then returns his attention to Byleth. "I do not attend here. My mother is a merchant in town. I was invited to spend the evening with the students."

She can't remember Rhea mentioning outside guests, but she puts that aside for now. "How lovely. Are you enjoying yourself, then?"

"Indeed."

His curt responses resonate with her, like she's heard them from someone before, but she can't place a finger on who. He does not seem much for conversation, and she almost decides to leave him be, but something about his longing stare at the ballroom propels her into a proposition. "Why don't you join me in a dance? I think I have enough energy for one more go-around." She feels mentioning his fixation on the dancers will push him away, so she keeps that to herself. The boy's brow furrows in thought, and his shoulders tense, as if readying for an attack. When she blinks, his stance appears more relaxed, but she can tell that there is an underlying stiffness in the way he carries himself. He must not feel like he belongs here.

"Of course. It would be foolish to turn down everyone's favorite professor," he says.

Byleth's face flushes. She will never be used to the attention she receives at Garreg Mach. Apparently, even the vendors in town know of her. "Don't feel obligated. You can say no if you wish," she mumbles, but the boy is already walking towards the dance floor, cutting a path for her to follow.

When they reach the center of the ballroom, he takes her hand and steps in time with the music. It's a waltz, nothing too extravagant, but his movements are so crisp, Byelth questions whether he is a merchant's son after all. He dances with the confidence of a noble. She thinks to question him about it, but when she looks up at him, she sees his attention is on the students again. His eyes scan left and right, and she's sure he is searching for someone in particular. She sees his eyes widen, and his cold expression softens. Byleth tries to follow his gaze, but he notices and coughs to pull her attention back to him. "Thank you for inviting me, professor. I'm sorry I'm not much for conversation."

Byleth glances to the side to try and catch sight of who he was looking for, but there are so many students circling each other that she realizes her attempts are futile. "Don't apologize for that. To tell you the truth, making small talk with everyone is exhausting."

"Then do not feel the need," he says, tightening his hold on her hand and spinning them around.

Now that she is focused on her partner, she feels the strength of his grip on her hip. She drums her fingers against his shoulder and notices how sturdy and developed they feel. Who is he? A non-student invited to the ball who dances like a noble, is built like a warrior, and has his eye on someone at Garreg Mach? Her curiosity is getting the better of her. She wants to uncover the mysteries this boy is made of.

Amidst all the uncertainty, Byleth finds herself at home in the stranger's arms. His confident strides keep her missteps in line, and she sees something akin to excitement flash in his eyes when she tries to take the lead from him. His hand tightens around hers, and he pulls her into a dip. This draws the attention of the students around them, something he appears to regret.

"The atmosphere here is starting to become suffocating," he mumbles, pulling Byleth back to her feet. "Perhaps we can go somewhere with fewer bystanders."

Byleth nods and pulls him along, scurrying out of the ballroom and to fresh air. They meander to the Goddess Tower, site of legends, but more importantly, off-limits to students. "We should be alone here," she observes, letting go of his hand and stepping back. She cannot read his expression, but she figures if she's going to get him to spill his secrets, she would need to get closer, first. "Do you know the legends about this place?" she asks him. When he shakes his head, she continues, "Apparently, when two people make a wish here on the night of the ball, the Goddess blesses it, and it comes true." He scoffs, and she laughs. "I know, it seems too good to be true, but there's no harm in trying, right? What do you want to wish for?"

He looks down at his feet, deciding what to say. She gives him the time he needs to think. When he picks his head back up and meets her gaze, she feels him pull at her heartstrings. His eyes are full of longing, of loneliness.

"My wish is to die without regrets."

Byleth is taken aback, not expecting something so morbid. "You...you want to make sure you're happy with your life, then?" she quietly asks.

"Something like that."

Byleth hates that she cannot read him. It's like he wears a mask, keeping himself hidden from her. "Well then, that will be my wish, too," she says slowly, staring at his face to try and pick up on any nuances.

A flash of contentment, but then it's gone.

"You do not need to waste your wish on me, Professor," he says, still unreadable. She's starting to get irritated.

"Should I wish for you to spill your secrets instead?"

He shuts his mouth.

"You aren't a merchant's son."

He does not deny her accusation.

"You are built like a soldier."

He furrows his brow.

"You were looking for someone here. Who?"

"That is not for you to know."

"Then who are you?" Byleth asks, reaching up and grabbing his collar. "Why are you here? And why...why do you feel so familiar?"

He smiles sadly and grabs her wrists, pulling her hands away from him. "To _live_ without regrets," he says softly, staring into her eyes with the same longing she saw in the ballroom. He reaches out and brushes his hand against her cheek, and Byleth is too stunned to move. "We will meet again," he whispers, striding past her and into the dark of night.

***

"Professor! Who was that you were dancing with?" Mercedes asks when Byleth returns to the ball.

Byleth stares forward, blankly, and shakes her head. "I...I have no idea..."

Mercedes frowns sympathetically and pats her on the shoulder. "You seem exhausted. Shall I take you back to your room?"

Byleth shakes her head again. "I'll be fine, but...Mercedes? Did that boy seem...familiar to you, at all?"

She smiles sadly and nods. "He reminded me of my younger brother, Emile, although...that's probably wishful thinking on my part..."

"Maybe we both need some rest," Byleth suggests. "I changed my mind. Let's walk to the dorms together." Mercedes agrees, and the two of them make their way back, path lit by the moonlight.

***

Mercedes is surrounded by friends who love her, and Byleth, well...

Byleth is the one.

Jeritza pulls the pins out of his hair, letting his bun fall apart. He ties it behind his head with a simple bow and looks over at the armor he had left resting against the wall. This night proved to him once and for all that he lives a life apart from them. They have a purpose, something to live for, and he...

He picks up his helmet, eye sockets glowing with an eerie light.

...his only destiny is to die.

His wish is that he dies without regrets.

**Author's Note:**

> *megalovania intensifies


End file.
